


all i can say is you saved me

by realmsoffreedom



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Abuse, Abusive Relationships, Anorexia, M/M, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, cashton are only in a little bit of this oops, it's pretty triggering be careful
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-23
Updated: 2015-08-23
Packaged: 2018-04-16 17:48:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4634523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/realmsoffreedom/pseuds/realmsoffreedom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You’re the only person who’s been nice to me…why wouldn’t I consider you my friend?”</p><p>“Then why do you think I’m going to leave you?”</p><p>“Everyone does.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	all i can say is you saved me

**Author's Note:**

> hi, so I got bored and this happened and I'm actually really proud of it. It's very triggering, so if anything that's tagged will trigger you, don't read this. enjoy.

The boy is too thin.

That’s the first thing Luke notices about him.

He’s standing awkwardly next to the teacher’s desk, wearing skinny jeans that make his legs look absolutely _amazing_ and a sweater that’s much too big on him. 

But he’s really fucking _thin_.

Luke looks him up and down, not paying much attention as the teacher introduces him to the class. He scrutinizes, smiling and hoping he doesn’t look too odd. The boy has black hair and pale skin and he looks so tiny. 

When the boy is directed to sit next to him, Luke’s heart leaps. He motions him forward, but as the boy takes a seat, he notices really how thin and bony he is. 

He looks like a fucking skeleton.

…

“Can you guys fuckin’ save the PDA for when I’m not forced to look at it?”

Groaning, Luke pulls out his phone and tries to distract himself. He loves his friends, but their constant sweet talking and kissing and hugging is gross.

“You’re just jealous you haven’t found a guy to fuck.”

“Fuck off, Cal.” 

“Ash is gonna get me off when we get home, is that good enough for you?”

“Fuck you both.”

He gets up, leaving the nauseating couple to be nauseating by themselves. Looking around the cafeteria, his eyes widen when he sees the boy, _Michael_ , from earlier. The new boy who’s sitting alone with no food in front of him, pillowing his head on his arms with earbuds shoved in. 

He knows how much people hate to be bothered when they have headphones in – he hates it more than anything – but Michael looks so lonely and small and he would definitely be so much better company than the two idiots that can’t stop groping each other for five seconds, even if they don’t talk at all. 

Luke decides, and goes to sit down at Michael’s table, pulling out his phone again to occupy himself.

“I-I’ll leave, I’m sorry…”

He looks up in shock, finding himself faced with terrified green eyes, looking like they’re shimmering with tears. 

“No, no, I want to sit with you!” Luke says, albeit too cheerily, but Michael just looks so scared and he hates that it’s _his_ fault. 

“W-Why?”

“You looked lonely, and my friends are being dicks.” Luke watches Michael flinch, and his heart sinks into his stomach. There’s something seriously wrong here, and he needs to figure out what it is. 

Michael doesn’t say anything for a few minutes, so Luke takes that as an opportunity to continue talking. 

“What are you listening to?”

A phone is slid his way, and Luke glances at the screen. Famous Last Words, off My Chemical Romance’s Black Parade album. Damn good album, and damn good song, to boot. Michael seems to have great music taste. 

“Good album. Is My Chem your favorite band?”

“O-One of them. A-All Time Low is other my favorite.”

He hates how scared the other boy still looks, and the stuttering breaks his heart. 

“That’s awesome, they’re two of my favorite bands too. I also really like Green Day and Good Charlotte.”

They go on for a little bit, talking about music, and then the bell rings. Michael jumps at the sound, his cheeks reddening but his complexion paling. He grabs his bag and practically runs out of the cafeteria, leaving Luke alone.

And that’s when he realizes that he didn’t get to ask Michael why he didn’t eat anything. 

…

They go on like this for a while.

Luke goes to sit with Michael every day, and they talk about bands and guitars and their hobbies and interests, and slowly, he learns more and more about this boy. He learns what Michael’s favorite color is, what makes him smile, what things he immediately freezes up and refuses to talk about, and so much more.

“Why are you doing this?”

Michael’s question brings surprise to Luke. He really hasn’t spoken up much, only talked when he was asked something, so this is new.

“Doing what?”

“Talking to me, acting like you care,” Michael replies sullenly. “Why bother? Everyone else sees me as a freak.”

“I don’t think you’re a freak.”

Michael shrugs. “I see the way you look at me. Like you’re trying to find out something. Just ask, and I’ll tell you. I’m not in the mood to be scrutinized. I’ll give you the info you want, and then you can leave like everybody else.”

“Mikey…”

“Please, Luke,” Michael says, a new sense of exhaustion creeping into his voice. “Just ask me what you’ve been dying to ask since the first day you met me.”

“I’m not gonna take information from you like you’re an open book.” Appalled he’d even suggest it, Luke shakes his head. “I want to be your friend, Mikey. I consider you my friend, even if you don’t consider me yours.”

“You’re the only person who’s been nice to me…why wouldn’t I consider you my friend?”

“Then why do you think I’m going to leave you?”

“Everyone does.”

…

The sweaters finally make sense.

Michael’s sleeve rides up one day, and then it all falls together in Luke’s mind.

He sees the red lines, clear-cut against pale, milky skin. His heart stops and he wants to cry. How has he been talking to Michael for this long, never having noticed this? How long has Michael been suffering like this, and why hasn’t Luke realized it? 

Michael’s eyes meet his and travel to where Luke is looking, and his smile freezes on his face, eventually dropping as he tries to make an escape. Luke grabs his wrist and Michael winces, looking at him with teary eyes and a quivering lip.

Slowly, carefully, Luke draws the sleeve up, and he immediately wishes he hadn’t. 

Michael’s wrist is a roadmap of scars and cuts, some red, some purple, some white. They criss-cross, some clean lines, others jagged and rough. Grotesque patterns spiral up his wrist. It’d look like art if the canvas wasn’t his skin and the paintbrush wasn’t a blade. 

Luke ghosts his finger over the cuts, wincing at the same time Michael does. He looks up from Michael’s damaged wrist into his broken, pained eyes, and brings the boy into his chest, hugging him as tight as physically possible.

“Never again,” Luke whispers, tears evident in his voice. “Never again. I don’t see why such a beautiful person like you would take a blade to your skin and carve into it, but it stops now. You have to promise me, Mikey. Please don’t hurt yourself like this again.”

“I can’t promise, Luke,” Michael whispers. “It’s too hard and it hurts too much and I’m not strong enough to deal with it in any other way.”

“You have to try, baby,” Luke chokes, squeezing Michael tighter. “Please, I can’t lose you.”

“Why do I mean so much to you? I’m nothing.”

“Why do you think that?” Luke wails, his tears really starting. “You mean the absolute _world_ to me, Michael. You’re everything to me. I look forward to lunch so I can come and sit with you and talk to you and watch your eyes light up and your speech begin to speed up because you’re excited about something. It’s pure beauty, baby. You’re pure beauty.”

…

Luke does everything he can to make Michael happy after that.

He talks about things that bring back the sparkle in Michael’s eyes and presses kisses to his scars, knowing that no, it won’t heal them or him, for that matter, but it’ll make Michael feel loved, and if he feels loved he won’t take that blade to his skin. 

“Why do you keep calling me baby?”

Luke shrugs. “Do you want me to stop?”

Michael giggles softly, the sound warming Luke’s heart. “I like it.”

“I like _you_.” Luke’s heart pounds in his chest as he confesses that, waiting for Michael’s reaction and _praying_ he doesn’t scare the boy away.

Michael’s eyes fill with the terror Luke saw the first day they spoke, effectively shattering his heart. This was all a mistake. “You…you what…?”

“I like you, Mikey. I want you to be my boyfriend…that is, if you’re into guys.”

Michael swallows hard. “Then there’s something you should know, Luke.”

“Nothing will change how I feel about you, baby.”

“I was in an abusive relationship,” Michael whispers, so soft that Luke has to strain to hear him. “My last boyfriend…he hit me, a lot. Was never…never good enough for him. I started starving myself…started starving because he always told me how fat and ugly and disgusting I was. But I stayed, he was all I had. Everyone else had left. I told you, everyone leaves me. M’not enough for people to stay. He was the only one I had. And he convinced me that he was the only person ever capable of loving a piece of worthless trash like me. Is that what love is? Being, hit, being raped, being verbally and emotionally abused?”

“ _No_!” Luke raises his voice slightly, hating Michael’s flinch. He brings the boy into a tight embrace, holding Michael close to him, stroking his hair and pressing multiple kisses to the top of the boy’s head. “Love is beautiful, baby. Love is giggles and kisses and late nights spent talking about anything, not caring what you have to do in the morning because you’re with the person you want to be with for the rest of your life. Love is breakfast in bed, lazy days, cuddles and kisses, running through a field of daises, hugs, baby, love is everything. That wasn’t love, what you had. That was abuse, that was pain, and I hate that that was your first exposure to what you thought love was. Love is none of those things, baby. Love is so wonderful, so beautiful, almost in a way that seems ethereal. Love is how I feel towards you. I love you. So fucking much.”

“Will you…will you show me what love is?” Michael's voice is soft, hesitant and Luke just wants to hold him forever.

Luke smiles, twisting and leaning down to press a soft kiss to Michael’s cheek. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

…

They’ve been dating for two months, before Luke finally sees the true extent of damage Michael’s ex has done. Despite the mental and emotional trauma…Michael isn’t eating. He’s skin and bones, a literal skeleton, and he still thinks he looks like a fat beached whale. Luke doesn’t know how to convince him otherwise, and it is eating him alive.

“Please, beautiful, just eat a little bit. You don’t have to eat it all, just try.”

Michael looks at the cup of yogurt like he’s just been handed a death sentence, and backs away, right against Luke’s chest. He shakes his head and turns to bury his face in Luke’s shirt, the blond feeling his heart ache because he just made his boyfriend _cry_. 

“I’m sorry I can’t be better for you, Lukey,” Michael sobs, his words muffled by Luke’s shirt. “I promise I’m trying…it’s just hard. He used to pinch my stomach and call me fat and a pig and unlovable and every time I see food I hear his voice telling me that!”

“Shhhh, baby, shhhh,” Luke soothes, threading his fingers through Michael’s soft hair. He knows the action calms him more than anything else. “It’s okay, you’re trying, that’s good enough for me. I just worry about you. You’re wasting away into nothing…you need to eat, baby. Food is what keeps us _alive_. You need it to stay alive. It can’t hurt you.”

“You won’t love me if I’m fat…”

“I will love you whether you eat this yogurt or not. I will love you whether you weigh ninety pounds or three hundred. Me wanting you to eat isn’t so you can get fat and I can leave you. It’s so you can stay alive, beautiful. I like having you here, I _need_ to have you here. You have no idea how truly happy you make me.”

…

_1 year later_

“One year clean, beautiful.”

That is how Luke wakes his boyfriend up that morning, pressing kisses to his warm cheeks and bringing the sleepy boy into his arms. 

Michael blinks dazedly, his eyes widening as he processes Luke’s statement. He snakes an arm out of the covers and flips his wrist over, revealing dozens of fading scars. Luke lifts the arm up and presses kisses to the healed skin. 

When he lifts his head, he’s attacked with a pair of lips pressing against his. Michael kisses him softly, and Luke has to marvel at the change that’s taken place in the year they’ve been together. 

Michael never used to initiate kisses, he was always too scared of the possible aftermath. He’d wait for Luke to kiss him, or for Luke to grab him and cuddle him close. Now, they both share the actions, and Luke couldn’t be prouder.

“I love you so much,” Michael murmurs. 

“I love you much more, beautiful,” Luke says gently. “I am so proud of you.”

“I was going to kill myself,” Michael replies. “That year. I was cutting a lot and I didn’t eat at all and I hated myself more than anything…I wanted to die. I probably would’ve done it, if you hadn’t been so persistent in wanting to be my friend. You saved me, Luke. I love you.”


End file.
